Bleak House (2005) s01e07 Episode Script
Episode 7
Jo? Jo! What's happened to him? You don't think anyone could have took him? Who'd want him, Charley? The boy is safely stowed, Mr Tulkinghorn.
You're quite sure? Oh, yes, sir.
Acting on information received from a friend of ours.
.
.
It was all done very quiet and discreet, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Hmm.
Perhaps I was being over-cautious, but the interest of one of our oldest English families are involved here.
Will you take a glass of wine, Mr Bucket? Thank you, Mr Tulkinghorn, I will.
KNOCKS ON DOOR Morning, Miss.
It's a nice bright day.
Mr Jarndyce! Mr Jarndyce, it's Miss Esther! I have to tell you that Miss Summerson is gravely ill.
The doctor's told me that she.
.
.
.
that she exhibits all the symptoms of the smallpox.
Miss Summerson's maid, Charley, has been kind enough and brave enough to volunteer herself as Miss Summerson's nurse.
No-one else.
.
.
No, no-one else, Ada.
.
.
is to enter her room, or to handle any dish or cup, or anything else that she has touched.
Is that quite clear to you all? Yes, Mr Jarndyce.
I pray to God that she may survive this.
I blame myself, of course I do.
I should have had the boy taken into a hospital immediately.
Damage might still have been done.
I think Esther would have done the same, even if she'd known the consequences.
You mustn't reproach yourself.
I pray to God she may survive this.
But the deuce of it is, if she does live, which is unlikely, she'll be so horridly disfigured that any person of a sensitive disposition, such as myself, will find her too distressing a sight to bear.
She will still be Esther, Mr Skimpole, and her true friends will love her just as much as they ever did.
And for dinner, m'Lady? Sir Leicester's partial to lamb.
Lamb, then.
Very good, m'Lady.
Oh, if you please, m'Lady? Yes, Mrs Rouncewell? You remember the young ladies that were staying with Mr Boythorn a while back? What of them? One of them's taken very ill.
.
.
with the smallpox.
Like to die, poor girl.
Mr Diggins had it from Mr Boythorn's groom.
Which young lady? Oh, not the Jarndyce ward, m'Lady, the other one.
.
.
Miss Summerson.
Jarnuss! Kenge-carbuncle.
Puppy.
Guppy.
She's his angel( !) First Miss Barbary.
Second Miss Barbary, Captain.
.
.
Captain Hawdon! All in here.
.
.
All in here somewhere! Oooh.
It's good stuff.
Ah, it's excellent stuff.
There's a fire in me belly.
Never felt so.
.
.
so full of joy.
Eh, Lady Jane? Ooh, warm as toast now.
Hold still! Damned twisty letters! What's it all? "My own.
.
.
" dear-est.
.
.
" dearest.
.
.
James.
" It's Nemo and the lady.
It's a love letter.
And I can read it.
What's this? ! Lady Jane, I can read.
I can read, I can read.
Ow! Oh.
.
.
Oh, that's warm.
It's warmer than toast! It's warm as.
.
.
As warm as.
.
.
I say.
.
.
KROOK YELLS Miss Flite.
This is late to be abroad for you.
I found it very close tonight, Mr Snagsby.
A queer sort of flavour in the air.
Opened the windows, still there.
My poor birds quaking, twittering.
The cook at The Sol's Arms must have burnt the chops tonight, Miss Flite.
And I don't think, not to put too fine a point upon it, that they were quite fresh when they were shown the gridiron.
I dare say that's it, Mr Snagsby.
It's a very tainting sort of weather.
What's this coming down? A sort of.
.
.
soot.
Oh.
Very greasy to the touch.
Oh? What's that? Who goes there? It's only me, Mr Snagsby.
Guppy of Kenge and Carboys, on urgent business, waiting upon Mr Krook.
It's very quiet and dark in there, Mr Guppy.
I think he's shut up shop very early tonight.
He'll see me, Mr Snagsby.
A matter of pressing importance, very much to his advantage.
Krook? Are you there? Come on, me old friend.
Business.
Business.
There's money to be made for both of us.
Krook? Where are you, you old devil? What's this? What's going on? What's all this sooty muck? Krook? It's Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
I've come for the letters.
GUPPY RETCHES I wish I could go to her and be with her.
Charley is worn to rags sitting up with her night after night.
Oh, she's glad to do it.
She's a good girl, the best of girls.
If anyone can pull Esther through this, she will.
Richard asks constantly about Esther in his letters.
He's so anxious about her.
Yes.
Yes, I know how much he cares for her.
And what else does Richard have to say for himself? He has a good deal to say, but I don't think you'd care to hear it.
Oh, come, Ada, I won't be angry with you, nor him for that.
Not now, not at this time.
I have been coming to think I was too hard with the pair of you.
His love for you is as steady and true as anything I ever saw.
And mine for him.
But what he says does worry me, and I think it will worry you too.
Then you had better tell me.
He wants to devote more of his energies to his suit in the Chancery Court.
I feared as much.
And he wishes to break off with Kenge and Carboys, and engage another lawyer to defend his interest.
Please don't be angry with him, or with me for telling you this.
I could never be angry with you, Ada.
Nor will I be angry with him.
He's not to blame.
This accursed lawsuit's warped him out of himself as it's done with others before him and.
.
.
He must do what he think's right.
I bear him no ill will for it.
Make sure he knows that, Ada.
And that there will always be a place for him here at Bleak House and a place in my heart too.
Move along now, please.
Nothing to see here.
Krook won't be opening up today.
I need to recover some property for a client, officer.
Guppy, Kenge and Carboys.
I don't care who you are, sir.
No-one goes in there and nothing comes out, not till after the inquest.
Yes, I know all about the inquest.
I am one of the principal witnesses.
Better get over there, then.
Coroner's gone up already.
Come to order, gentlemen.
Now, we're assembled here to inquire into the extraordinary death of Mr Krook, landlord and proprietor of Krook's Rag and Bottle Warehouse.
The second suspicious death in recent months reported at the same premises, the first being of the law-writer, popularly known as Nemo, recorded as an accidental death brought on as a result of the excessive consumption of opium.
Mr Snagsby.
My Lord, I had occasion to venture abroad outside Mr Krook's business premises, and I remarked upon the greasy odours on the air.
Remarked to whom? Yourself? To.
.
.
to me, Your Honour.
I had been complaining about the very same.
And you are? Miss Flite.
Tenant to the late departed, and claimant in the Courts of Chancery.
Mr Snagsby and I remarked upon it, and it was then that the young man appeared upon the scene.
What young man? Er, that young man there, that fine, handsome young man, Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
Ah, yes, Mr Guppy.
Who, as I understand, discovered the remains? Is that so, Mr Guppy? I had that unfortunate.
.
.
honour, Your Honour.
LAUGHTER Silence in court.
And what, may we ask, was Guppy of Kenge and Carboys doing in Krook's Rag and Bottle Shop after hours? Up to no good, Mr Guppy? Your Honour, I take grave exception to that insinuation.
Mr Snagsby and Miss Flite will confirm that I was a regular visitor at Mr Krook's establishment.
A trusted friend.
It was my pleasure to perform small services for the deceased.
To read him letters and documents he was unable to himself decipher.
And on this occasion? The same, Your Honour.
Mmm.
And to collect a bundle of letters, which he was keeping in safe-holding, for a third party for whom I was acting in a private and confidential capacity.
And you found him? Dead, Your Honour.
Mmm.
Burnt.
A small part of him still alight, with blue flame playing round about.
Like a Christmas pudding in a pool of brandy? Exactly so, Your Honour.
Except, I believe, in this case it was, in fact, gin.
All right, Mr Guppy, you may stand down.
Gentlemen of the jury, the deceased was an habitual consumer of vast amounts of spirituous liquor which, as we know, is highly flammable.
The condition of the body, we've heard, was such that all the evidence points to it having been consumed by fire.
But not from the outside inwards, as is most usual, but from the inside outwards.
In short, I believe this is an example of that rarest of phenomena, a case of spontaneous combustion.
Give way there! Give way there! Oh, dear.
Oh, Lord.
Oh, my bones.
Be silent, sir.
Are you aware that you are disturbing a properly convened coroner's court? That's what I'm here about.
My property! My property! Krook's stuff.
Put a guard on it.
No-one to touch it.
Least of all that preening young villain from Kenge and Carboys.
Your property, Mr Smallweed? That man Krook was Mrs Smallweed's brother.
She was his only living relative.
We shall make good our title.
Mr Tulkinghorn is my solicitor, and it's a brave man who tries to cross Mr Tulkinghorn.
So, transportation or the gallows for anyone who touches my property! Put me down and shake me up, you brimstone black beetle.
Charley? Oh, Miss.
You've come back to us.
How long was I away, Charley? Two whole weeks nearly, Miss.
The doctors didn't think you'd pull through it, but I knew you would, Miss.
I knew you wouldn't leave us.
It's very dark, isn't it, Charley? The doctors thought the light might hurt your eyes.
I think I could bear a little more light now.
Don't, Miss.
.
.
Am I much marked, Charley? Not as bad as all that, Miss.
And the marks do fade with time, so you could hardly tell they were there, they say.
Bring me a looking-glass.
I want to see what you see.
Not now, Miss.
Leave it till tomorrow.
Leave it till you're strong enough to get out of bed.
Now, Charley.
I mean it.
Well, I never thought my face would be my fortune, and now I'm quite sure of it.
Oh, Miss.
.
.
Charley, please don't cry for me.
I think I am very lucky to be alive, thanks to you.
I'll run and tell Mr Jarndyce.
He'll be so happy, Miss.
Esther.
Esther, Esther.
.
.
I don't mind you seeing me as I am, but I'm not sure I want Ada to see me like this.
I think it would upset her.
Well, you will have to take your chance on it because I haven't been able to keep her away.
DOOR OPENS Esther.
.
.
I've missed you so much.
Come on.
Sshhh.
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys on a matter of personal business with Her Ladyship.
Her Ladyship is going out directly.
Don't you see the carriage here? Yes, I do see the carriage.
But I want to see my Lady too, and I think she will see me.
If you'd be so good as to wait there, Mr Guppy.
.
.
Your Ladyship, a thousand apologies.
Circumstances beyond my control.
Oh, Lord.
Well, Mr Guppy? I, I.
.
.
I have to beg Your Ladyship's pardon for arriving at such an inconvenient time.
I told you you could arrive at any time.
Sit down, or stay standing, if you please.
Your Ladyship is very affable.
As for sitting down, I hardly know whether it's worth your while to be detained for so long as it would take.
The fact is, Your Ladyship, I have not got the letters that I mentioned when I had the honour of waiting upon Your Ladyship.
And you have come here merely to say that? It is not impossible, Your Ladyship, that I will be able to obtain them at a future date.
There were very unusual circumstances.
The person of whom I was to have the letters, came to a very sudden end.
What sort of sudden end? Fire, m'Lady.
And were the letters destroyed with the person? Impossible to say for certain, m'Lady, but I will do my utmost to try and.
.
.
All right, Mr Guppy.
You have said all that you can usefully say at present? Yes, my Lady.
Then I wish you good day.
Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Dedlock.
I had some business of Sir Leicester's to attend to and I supposed that this room would be empty.
A thousand pardons, my Lady.
Excuse me.
No, stay.
The room is at your disposal.
I am going out, and I have nothing more to say to this young man.
Good day.
Excuse me, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Do we know you, young man? Are you not from Kenge and Carboys? Yes, sir.
My name is Guppy.
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
I understood that I had the honour of conducting Her Ladyship's legal business.
May I ask what brought you here, Mr Guppy? You may, sir.
But I am not at liberty to answer.
Indeed.
Very good, Mr Guppy.
Beyond saying it was business of a private and confidential nature.
Oh, I see.
Thank you, Mr Guppy.
I am much obliged to you.
Good day.
So, what has been happening? What have I missed? You have been missed, very much.
One strange thing.
One day when I walked up to the village, I met Jenny from the brickfields.
She was so sorry to hear you were ill.
Blamed herself over it.
Did she have any news of that poor boy Jo? No.
But what she did say was very strange.
She told me that a lady with a veil had and asked after your health.
What lady? She couldn't say.
A stranger.
But this lady had taken a handkerchief of yours as a keepsake, and left her some money for it.
Do you remember that handkerchief, Esther? Oh, the day her baby died.
I used it to cover his face.
Yes.
Jenny had kept it with the baby's things.
But the lady with the veil had been so particular about wanting it.
What a strange thing.
I hope you're not tiring her, Ada? No, indeed.
I feel stronger with every day.
Then perhaps you'll feel well enough to see someone who's been anxious to hear about your progress? My physician, Mr Woodcourt, you remember him? Yes, very well.
But have you heard what happened? No, what? Oh, my dear, there was a terrible shipwreck.
Oh! Oh, don't be agitated.
He's safe.
Hundreds of dead and dying.
Numbers of drowning thrown upon the rocks, but through it all my physician was a hero.
Saved many lives.
The whole country rings with it.
He should have a title bestowed upon him, and no doubt he will.
No-one could deserve it better, I am sure.
And he is well? You are sure of it? Quite.
Quite well, my dear.
Guppy, Clamb.
What do we know of Guppy? Guppy.
Young Mr Guppy, of Kenge and Carboys? Yes.
Not a lot, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Not much is known against him, at any event.
A keen, respectable young clerk.
Ambitious is the word they use for Mr Guppy.
Looking to rise in the world.
Hmm.
Were you thinking to employ Mr Guppy, sir, in some capacity? No.
I sent for Smallweed.
Is he come? He's waiting in the outer office, sir.
Have him carried in.
If you'd care to come through, Mr Smallweed, Mr Tulkinghorn is expecting you.
Oh, have a care, you slaughterhouse ruffians.
Oh.
.
.
Oh, my bones and sockets! Mr Tulkinghorn, I'd take it very kindly if you'd wait upon ME once in a while instead of causing me to be posted all over London like a box of tripes! Very kind of you to attend, Mr Smallweed.
I should be at Krook's, guarding my property.
And what is there to guard especially? I don't know, but that old brimstone beast had something worth snaffling.
Guppy's after something there, I know that.
Guppy, you say? Yeah.
Very full of himself he was at the inquest.
Was the name of Hawdon mentioned there? Hawdon? No.
But he's at the heart of it, I believe.
I think we should speak to Sergeant George again, Mr Smallweed.
Call in his debts.
Squeeze him dry.
Smash him to sawdust! If need be, Mr Smallweed.
It may come to that.
So it's come to this, has it, Sergeant? You're ready to be ruined for the sake of showing, or not showing, a piece of paper with some handwriting on it? For myself, sir, it counts very little either way.
It counts very little, does it? Let's see you smashed to sawdust, see how that counts with you.
For yourself, Sergeant.
But you have at least one other who depends on you for everything.
Would you bring him down with you to serve your own pride? Your friend Captain Hawdon's dead and gone.
But what's poor Phil Squod to do if you lose your establishment? Starve, I suppose.
That's nothing to me, nor Mr Smallweed.
But how will it rest with your conscience, Sergeant? If I show the letter, no harm will come to anyone from it? I offer no guarantees, but if you don't show it, I think you understand the consequences.
Then I have no choice.
You have the document with you? No.
But I will bring it.
Well, make sure that you do.
But take care, Mr Tulkinghorn.
You hold the lives of others very cheap, I think.
If I were you, I should be fearful for my own.
Do you threaten me, sir? I have been threatened before, and those who made the threats had reason to regret it.
I think I have little to fear from such as you.
Clamb! Show the gentleman out.
DOOR SLAMS
You're quite sure? Oh, yes, sir.
Acting on information received from a friend of ours.
.
.
It was all done very quiet and discreet, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Hmm.
Perhaps I was being over-cautious, but the interest of one of our oldest English families are involved here.
Will you take a glass of wine, Mr Bucket? Thank you, Mr Tulkinghorn, I will.
KNOCKS ON DOOR Morning, Miss.
It's a nice bright day.
Mr Jarndyce! Mr Jarndyce, it's Miss Esther! I have to tell you that Miss Summerson is gravely ill.
The doctor's told me that she.
.
.
.
that she exhibits all the symptoms of the smallpox.
Miss Summerson's maid, Charley, has been kind enough and brave enough to volunteer herself as Miss Summerson's nurse.
No-one else.
.
.
No, no-one else, Ada.
.
.
is to enter her room, or to handle any dish or cup, or anything else that she has touched.
Is that quite clear to you all? Yes, Mr Jarndyce.
I pray to God that she may survive this.
I blame myself, of course I do.
I should have had the boy taken into a hospital immediately.
Damage might still have been done.
I think Esther would have done the same, even if she'd known the consequences.
You mustn't reproach yourself.
I pray to God she may survive this.
But the deuce of it is, if she does live, which is unlikely, she'll be so horridly disfigured that any person of a sensitive disposition, such as myself, will find her too distressing a sight to bear.
She will still be Esther, Mr Skimpole, and her true friends will love her just as much as they ever did.
And for dinner, m'Lady? Sir Leicester's partial to lamb.
Lamb, then.
Very good, m'Lady.
Oh, if you please, m'Lady? Yes, Mrs Rouncewell? You remember the young ladies that were staying with Mr Boythorn a while back? What of them? One of them's taken very ill.
.
.
with the smallpox.
Like to die, poor girl.
Mr Diggins had it from Mr Boythorn's groom.
Which young lady? Oh, not the Jarndyce ward, m'Lady, the other one.
.
.
Miss Summerson.
Jarnuss! Kenge-carbuncle.
Puppy.
Guppy.
She's his angel( !) First Miss Barbary.
Second Miss Barbary, Captain.
.
.
Captain Hawdon! All in here.
.
.
All in here somewhere! Oooh.
It's good stuff.
Ah, it's excellent stuff.
There's a fire in me belly.
Never felt so.
.
.
so full of joy.
Eh, Lady Jane? Ooh, warm as toast now.
Hold still! Damned twisty letters! What's it all? "My own.
.
.
" dear-est.
.
.
" dearest.
.
.
James.
" It's Nemo and the lady.
It's a love letter.
And I can read it.
What's this? ! Lady Jane, I can read.
I can read, I can read.
Ow! Oh.
.
.
Oh, that's warm.
It's warmer than toast! It's warm as.
.
.
As warm as.
.
.
I say.
.
.
KROOK YELLS Miss Flite.
This is late to be abroad for you.
I found it very close tonight, Mr Snagsby.
A queer sort of flavour in the air.
Opened the windows, still there.
My poor birds quaking, twittering.
The cook at The Sol's Arms must have burnt the chops tonight, Miss Flite.
And I don't think, not to put too fine a point upon it, that they were quite fresh when they were shown the gridiron.
I dare say that's it, Mr Snagsby.
It's a very tainting sort of weather.
What's this coming down? A sort of.
.
.
soot.
Oh.
Very greasy to the touch.
Oh? What's that? Who goes there? It's only me, Mr Snagsby.
Guppy of Kenge and Carboys, on urgent business, waiting upon Mr Krook.
It's very quiet and dark in there, Mr Guppy.
I think he's shut up shop very early tonight.
He'll see me, Mr Snagsby.
A matter of pressing importance, very much to his advantage.
Krook? Are you there? Come on, me old friend.
Business.
Business.
There's money to be made for both of us.
Krook? Where are you, you old devil? What's this? What's going on? What's all this sooty muck? Krook? It's Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
I've come for the letters.
GUPPY RETCHES I wish I could go to her and be with her.
Charley is worn to rags sitting up with her night after night.
Oh, she's glad to do it.
She's a good girl, the best of girls.
If anyone can pull Esther through this, she will.
Richard asks constantly about Esther in his letters.
He's so anxious about her.
Yes.
Yes, I know how much he cares for her.
And what else does Richard have to say for himself? He has a good deal to say, but I don't think you'd care to hear it.
Oh, come, Ada, I won't be angry with you, nor him for that.
Not now, not at this time.
I have been coming to think I was too hard with the pair of you.
His love for you is as steady and true as anything I ever saw.
And mine for him.
But what he says does worry me, and I think it will worry you too.
Then you had better tell me.
He wants to devote more of his energies to his suit in the Chancery Court.
I feared as much.
And he wishes to break off with Kenge and Carboys, and engage another lawyer to defend his interest.
Please don't be angry with him, or with me for telling you this.
I could never be angry with you, Ada.
Nor will I be angry with him.
He's not to blame.
This accursed lawsuit's warped him out of himself as it's done with others before him and.
.
.
He must do what he think's right.
I bear him no ill will for it.
Make sure he knows that, Ada.
And that there will always be a place for him here at Bleak House and a place in my heart too.
Move along now, please.
Nothing to see here.
Krook won't be opening up today.
I need to recover some property for a client, officer.
Guppy, Kenge and Carboys.
I don't care who you are, sir.
No-one goes in there and nothing comes out, not till after the inquest.
Yes, I know all about the inquest.
I am one of the principal witnesses.
Better get over there, then.
Coroner's gone up already.
Come to order, gentlemen.
Now, we're assembled here to inquire into the extraordinary death of Mr Krook, landlord and proprietor of Krook's Rag and Bottle Warehouse.
The second suspicious death in recent months reported at the same premises, the first being of the law-writer, popularly known as Nemo, recorded as an accidental death brought on as a result of the excessive consumption of opium.
Mr Snagsby.
My Lord, I had occasion to venture abroad outside Mr Krook's business premises, and I remarked upon the greasy odours on the air.
Remarked to whom? Yourself? To.
.
.
to me, Your Honour.
I had been complaining about the very same.
And you are? Miss Flite.
Tenant to the late departed, and claimant in the Courts of Chancery.
Mr Snagsby and I remarked upon it, and it was then that the young man appeared upon the scene.
What young man? Er, that young man there, that fine, handsome young man, Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
Ah, yes, Mr Guppy.
Who, as I understand, discovered the remains? Is that so, Mr Guppy? I had that unfortunate.
.
.
honour, Your Honour.
LAUGHTER Silence in court.
And what, may we ask, was Guppy of Kenge and Carboys doing in Krook's Rag and Bottle Shop after hours? Up to no good, Mr Guppy? Your Honour, I take grave exception to that insinuation.
Mr Snagsby and Miss Flite will confirm that I was a regular visitor at Mr Krook's establishment.
A trusted friend.
It was my pleasure to perform small services for the deceased.
To read him letters and documents he was unable to himself decipher.
And on this occasion? The same, Your Honour.
Mmm.
And to collect a bundle of letters, which he was keeping in safe-holding, for a third party for whom I was acting in a private and confidential capacity.
And you found him? Dead, Your Honour.
Mmm.
Burnt.
A small part of him still alight, with blue flame playing round about.
Like a Christmas pudding in a pool of brandy? Exactly so, Your Honour.
Except, I believe, in this case it was, in fact, gin.
All right, Mr Guppy, you may stand down.
Gentlemen of the jury, the deceased was an habitual consumer of vast amounts of spirituous liquor which, as we know, is highly flammable.
The condition of the body, we've heard, was such that all the evidence points to it having been consumed by fire.
But not from the outside inwards, as is most usual, but from the inside outwards.
In short, I believe this is an example of that rarest of phenomena, a case of spontaneous combustion.
Give way there! Give way there! Oh, dear.
Oh, Lord.
Oh, my bones.
Be silent, sir.
Are you aware that you are disturbing a properly convened coroner's court? That's what I'm here about.
My property! My property! Krook's stuff.
Put a guard on it.
No-one to touch it.
Least of all that preening young villain from Kenge and Carboys.
Your property, Mr Smallweed? That man Krook was Mrs Smallweed's brother.
She was his only living relative.
We shall make good our title.
Mr Tulkinghorn is my solicitor, and it's a brave man who tries to cross Mr Tulkinghorn.
So, transportation or the gallows for anyone who touches my property! Put me down and shake me up, you brimstone black beetle.
Charley? Oh, Miss.
You've come back to us.
How long was I away, Charley? Two whole weeks nearly, Miss.
The doctors didn't think you'd pull through it, but I knew you would, Miss.
I knew you wouldn't leave us.
It's very dark, isn't it, Charley? The doctors thought the light might hurt your eyes.
I think I could bear a little more light now.
Don't, Miss.
.
.
Am I much marked, Charley? Not as bad as all that, Miss.
And the marks do fade with time, so you could hardly tell they were there, they say.
Bring me a looking-glass.
I want to see what you see.
Not now, Miss.
Leave it till tomorrow.
Leave it till you're strong enough to get out of bed.
Now, Charley.
I mean it.
Well, I never thought my face would be my fortune, and now I'm quite sure of it.
Oh, Miss.
.
.
Charley, please don't cry for me.
I think I am very lucky to be alive, thanks to you.
I'll run and tell Mr Jarndyce.
He'll be so happy, Miss.
Esther.
Esther, Esther.
.
.
I don't mind you seeing me as I am, but I'm not sure I want Ada to see me like this.
I think it would upset her.
Well, you will have to take your chance on it because I haven't been able to keep her away.
DOOR OPENS Esther.
.
.
I've missed you so much.
Come on.
Sshhh.
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys on a matter of personal business with Her Ladyship.
Her Ladyship is going out directly.
Don't you see the carriage here? Yes, I do see the carriage.
But I want to see my Lady too, and I think she will see me.
If you'd be so good as to wait there, Mr Guppy.
.
.
Your Ladyship, a thousand apologies.
Circumstances beyond my control.
Oh, Lord.
Well, Mr Guppy? I, I.
.
.
I have to beg Your Ladyship's pardon for arriving at such an inconvenient time.
I told you you could arrive at any time.
Sit down, or stay standing, if you please.
Your Ladyship is very affable.
As for sitting down, I hardly know whether it's worth your while to be detained for so long as it would take.
The fact is, Your Ladyship, I have not got the letters that I mentioned when I had the honour of waiting upon Your Ladyship.
And you have come here merely to say that? It is not impossible, Your Ladyship, that I will be able to obtain them at a future date.
There were very unusual circumstances.
The person of whom I was to have the letters, came to a very sudden end.
What sort of sudden end? Fire, m'Lady.
And were the letters destroyed with the person? Impossible to say for certain, m'Lady, but I will do my utmost to try and.
.
.
All right, Mr Guppy.
You have said all that you can usefully say at present? Yes, my Lady.
Then I wish you good day.
Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Dedlock.
I had some business of Sir Leicester's to attend to and I supposed that this room would be empty.
A thousand pardons, my Lady.
Excuse me.
No, stay.
The room is at your disposal.
I am going out, and I have nothing more to say to this young man.
Good day.
Excuse me, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Do we know you, young man? Are you not from Kenge and Carboys? Yes, sir.
My name is Guppy.
Mr Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.
I understood that I had the honour of conducting Her Ladyship's legal business.
May I ask what brought you here, Mr Guppy? You may, sir.
But I am not at liberty to answer.
Indeed.
Very good, Mr Guppy.
Beyond saying it was business of a private and confidential nature.
Oh, I see.
Thank you, Mr Guppy.
I am much obliged to you.
Good day.
So, what has been happening? What have I missed? You have been missed, very much.
One strange thing.
One day when I walked up to the village, I met Jenny from the brickfields.
She was so sorry to hear you were ill.
Blamed herself over it.
Did she have any news of that poor boy Jo? No.
But what she did say was very strange.
She told me that a lady with a veil had and asked after your health.
What lady? She couldn't say.
A stranger.
But this lady had taken a handkerchief of yours as a keepsake, and left her some money for it.
Do you remember that handkerchief, Esther? Oh, the day her baby died.
I used it to cover his face.
Yes.
Jenny had kept it with the baby's things.
But the lady with the veil had been so particular about wanting it.
What a strange thing.
I hope you're not tiring her, Ada? No, indeed.
I feel stronger with every day.
Then perhaps you'll feel well enough to see someone who's been anxious to hear about your progress? My physician, Mr Woodcourt, you remember him? Yes, very well.
But have you heard what happened? No, what? Oh, my dear, there was a terrible shipwreck.
Oh! Oh, don't be agitated.
He's safe.
Hundreds of dead and dying.
Numbers of drowning thrown upon the rocks, but through it all my physician was a hero.
Saved many lives.
The whole country rings with it.
He should have a title bestowed upon him, and no doubt he will.
No-one could deserve it better, I am sure.
And he is well? You are sure of it? Quite.
Quite well, my dear.
Guppy, Clamb.
What do we know of Guppy? Guppy.
Young Mr Guppy, of Kenge and Carboys? Yes.
Not a lot, Mr Tulkinghorn.
Not much is known against him, at any event.
A keen, respectable young clerk.
Ambitious is the word they use for Mr Guppy.
Looking to rise in the world.
Hmm.
Were you thinking to employ Mr Guppy, sir, in some capacity? No.
I sent for Smallweed.
Is he come? He's waiting in the outer office, sir.
Have him carried in.
If you'd care to come through, Mr Smallweed, Mr Tulkinghorn is expecting you.
Oh, have a care, you slaughterhouse ruffians.
Oh.
.
.
Oh, my bones and sockets! Mr Tulkinghorn, I'd take it very kindly if you'd wait upon ME once in a while instead of causing me to be posted all over London like a box of tripes! Very kind of you to attend, Mr Smallweed.
I should be at Krook's, guarding my property.
And what is there to guard especially? I don't know, but that old brimstone beast had something worth snaffling.
Guppy's after something there, I know that.
Guppy, you say? Yeah.
Very full of himself he was at the inquest.
Was the name of Hawdon mentioned there? Hawdon? No.
But he's at the heart of it, I believe.
I think we should speak to Sergeant George again, Mr Smallweed.
Call in his debts.
Squeeze him dry.
Smash him to sawdust! If need be, Mr Smallweed.
It may come to that.
So it's come to this, has it, Sergeant? You're ready to be ruined for the sake of showing, or not showing, a piece of paper with some handwriting on it? For myself, sir, it counts very little either way.
It counts very little, does it? Let's see you smashed to sawdust, see how that counts with you.
For yourself, Sergeant.
But you have at least one other who depends on you for everything.
Would you bring him down with you to serve your own pride? Your friend Captain Hawdon's dead and gone.
But what's poor Phil Squod to do if you lose your establishment? Starve, I suppose.
That's nothing to me, nor Mr Smallweed.
But how will it rest with your conscience, Sergeant? If I show the letter, no harm will come to anyone from it? I offer no guarantees, but if you don't show it, I think you understand the consequences.
Then I have no choice.
You have the document with you? No.
But I will bring it.
Well, make sure that you do.
But take care, Mr Tulkinghorn.
You hold the lives of others very cheap, I think.
If I were you, I should be fearful for my own.
Do you threaten me, sir? I have been threatened before, and those who made the threats had reason to regret it.
I think I have little to fear from such as you.
Clamb! Show the gentleman out.
DOOR SLAMS